


Fire Hawk, Snow Thrush

by bluntblade



Category: Horizon: Zero Dawn (Video Game)
Genre: Adventure & Romance, BAMF Aloy (Horizon: Zero Dawn), F/F, Friends to Lovers, Hunters Lodge (Horizon: Zero Dawn), Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-09
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:02:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 16,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27475459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluntblade/pseuds/bluntblade
Summary: With Ikrie at a loose end after her ordeal on the glacier and the loss of her friendship with Mailen, Aloy offers to go adventuring with her. As for what they're both looking for, the Nora's not sure, but her bond with the Banuk wanderer is already deepening, and she's both nervous and curious to see where it will lead them.The title's a homage to Red Wolf, Black Leopard by Marlon James. Rest assured it won't get anything like as dark.
Relationships: Aloy & Rost (Horizon: Zero Dawn), Aloy/Ikrie (Horizon: Zero Dawn), Ikrie and Mailen (Horizon: Zero Dawn)
Comments: 125
Kudos: 68





	1. Taking a Trophy

“Uh, Aloy…”

Aloy shook herself out of her reverie, and met Ikrie’s ice-blue eyes. Which was only so tricky, when she was already gazing absently at her face. “Hmm?”

“What are you looking at?”

Aloy cocked her head. “All the time we were running together up in the Cut, you were wearing full Banuk gear. Practically swaddled,” she said, and Ikrie chuckled.

“So you mean to say…”

“My… image of you included the furs, the hood, the whole headgear.” Admittedly Ikrie had retained a bit of that for the more temperate gear she was wearing down here, keeping the aspect which put Aloy in mind of a lynx when she saw Ikrie, but the ensemble which had framed her feline features was very much altered.

“Can I at least get an ‘I like your hair’?” Ikrie prodded, eyes full of amusement.

“Goes without saying,” Aloy smiled. It was a striking look which had emerged from under Ikrie’s hood, dark hair cropped on the sides and tied into a short ponytail. From that point down, she had turned out to be slender and sinewy, which Aloy found she rather liked. Something about it completed the impression given by those ice-blue eyes and-

“You’re doing it again, Aloy.”

_Shit. Control yourself, Aloy._ “Sorry.”

“Bah,” Ikrie chuckled, and punched her lightly on the arm. “No harm done. And there are worse people to have looking at me.”

Aloy felt the blush rising in her cheeks, and turned back to her lunch. “So Ikrie, what are we doing out here? I mean, obviously we’re getting away from the ice, and I’m happy about that.” She had, after all, sacrificed a good month of spring to roving around in the snow, and it was good to feel a breeze on her skin which didn’t hurt.

Also, finally seeing Ikrie in lighter gear was, to put it guardedly, a welcome novelty.

They’d come down out of the Cut today, and were working their way west across the Sacred Land of the Nora. Setting out from the border after breakfast, a morning’s ride on an overridden Strider had brought them to a river, which seemed as good a spot for lunch as any. The Strider was now standing quietly to attention a stone’s throw away.

When Ikrie had asked to come with her, Aloy hadn’t thought anything of it. The other woman hadn’t seen beyond Banuk territory, and she had just had her ordeal on the glacier. The White Teeth’s test, which had cost Ikrie her friendship with Mailen. Which had forced Ikrie to sacrifice her friendship, so that her friend could achieve the thing she desired most of all.

And Aloy had been turning that over and over in her head, realising just how much Ikrie had given up. Sure, Rost had parted from her before the Proving, determining silently to stand vigil over her trial, but he had done so in the expectation that Aloy would trade his guardianship for a place within the Nora tribe. True, nothing had gone as Rost envisaged, but the intent had been there.

There was no such upside built into Ikrie’s choice. She’d been faced with a lose-lose situation. That had to knock her off-kilter pretty badly. Where did a lost Banuk go? The Sundom seemed to be the usual answer, from those she’d met.

Now Ikrie spoke up, and confirmed Aloy’s supposition. “I pictured us heading over to the Sundom, and finding our way to the Hunter’s Lodge.”

“Hunter’s Lodge, you say?” Aloy looked at her sidelong. “You’re going to need a sponsor.”

“Lucky I’ve got a friend on the inside then. She owes me,” Ikrie continued, warming to her little act. “I did miss out on the call to arms at Meridian after all."

“You mean the great battle?” Aloy arched an eyebrow, remembering the terrible carnage of that day. She’d found an ancient word which seemed to fit: apocalyptic. "Well, I'm sorry I didn't drag you from all the way from the Cut into immense danger, with all the pressure that goes with needing to save the world."

"Apology accepted." Ikrie winked. "Besides, now you can make it up to me, right Hawk?"

“Oh, I suppose I can be persuaded. My spear besides yours, right?” She sat back, basking in the sunlight. “And as the first savage to join the Lodge, I suppose I’d be remiss if I didn’t bring a Banuk ice ghost into the fold.”

Ikrie gripped her upper arm and gave her a little shake. “Aww, you do like me.”

“Which was never in question. So,” Aloy added, thinking. “We’ve got trophies to think about. Talanah had me bag several when I joined.”

“And to that end,” Ikrie replied, reaching for her bag. “I have taken a couple of pieces over our time coming south. A Sawtooth fang for starters.” She pulled out a blade of black metal. “That Stalker we dealt with by the geysers.”

“That’s one the Lodge always likes to see,” Aloy said approvingly. “It demonstrates a certain ability to think on your feet.”

“And do you think a Scorcher fang will stand in for… what did you bring in for your place? A Ravager?”

Aloy eyed the tooth, noting the Blaze pipe which ran down its back. “You might need Ardik to back you up to some of the sceptical types in the Lodge.”

“Is he Banuk?”

“Yeah. Most Lodge members are Carja, and Carja tend not to get out to the Cut.”

Ikrie nodded. “I’ll say. Those I have seen, I can count on my fingers. Based on how you’ve handled, our kind of cold isn’t ideal for a Nora.”

“The kind where you have to dig out frost from between your teeth? Yeah, very much the case, and I’m used to snow in springtime. Most Carja aren’t, and in any case, they’re...”

“Snobs?”

Aloy weighed her words with some care. “Not all, but some of the snobbiest people I ever met are Carja, I’ll give you that. It’s really a lucky thing that I’m presenting you to my former Hawk, and not the man who held her place before. And Banuk are… tricky, for the Carja.”

“More than your people?”

She thought about that, and how to say it without any risk of tactlessness. An apple bought her some time. “The Nora, so far as they’re mine, are a straightforward people. The Carja tend to misunderstand us quite a lot, but it’s not too removed from the truth.”

Amusement showed clear in Ikrie’s eyes. “And we’re more complicated, huh? I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised, though. The number of times I’ve become exasperated with Banuk customs and well, with everything that’s happened since we met.” Her smile had faltered.

“Still kind of raw, isn’t it?” Aloy asked.

“It sure is. But I’m getting you away from your point. So we’re difficult for the Carja?”

“Yeah. Now, a Nora is easy to a Carja mind. They’re superstitious but in a fairly practical way, steering clear of ancient ruins, Cauldrons and the like. They take down Machines, and take the bits they require. There aren’t cities in the Sacred Land, but there’s enough that the Carja can just write us off as primitive rather than wholly different.”

“Whereas the Banuk?”

“Whereas the Banuk learn more, or at least some of you do, but to a Carja you wrap it all up in mysticism while the Carja pride themselves on being rational. The image that I always had was that every scrap of lore that the Banuk have about Machines is filtered through the Shamans and their ways. What I saw in the Cut tended to confirm those suspicions.”

“Like how we don’t like to see anyone else strip a Machine down?” Ikrie chuckled. “You’ve corrupted me there, Aloy.”

“Oh, it seemed to me like you’d done it before.”

“Do you always slander your friends like this?” Ikrie nearly succeeded in keeping her face straight. “Alright, joking aside, I might get some backs up just by being me. So I guess there’s nothing new there for either of us. But between you, Ardik and… Talanah’s the Sunhawk, right?”

“Got it in one. You should be just fine, but we still need a couple of Sawtooth and Ravager trophies.”

It was such a welcome change to have someone who could keep up with her, or rather whose thoughts ran on the same track as hers. Ikrie likely had more in common with her than anyone from the Nora Tribe. _Snow ghost and outcast seem to go well together_.

Aloy jolted herself from her reverie. “Just gotta think of which way to go. I reckon if we head over the maintain and then the Path of Broken Stones, that should take us through a couple of sites. Plenty of-”

A roar cut her off, rolling down the valley like thunder. She came to her feet and turned to follow the sound. What she sees makes her breath catch in her throat.

Ikrie was blunter. “Oh crap.”

A young Nora lad was sprinting down a slope, a couple of hundred metres distant. He was running pell-mell, and no wonder. Because a moment later, a Ravager came tearing over the crest of the hill above him, and the lad barely dodged the torrent of cannon fire it issued after him. Between its speed and the lethal ranged weapon on its back, there was no way he’d escape it on foot.

Aloy and Ikrie shared a glance. “Looks like your next trophy came to us,” Aloy said grimly. Then she ran to mount her Strider. She had it moving from the moment she set it in motion, and along the way she caught Ikrie’s wrist and helped her up. Seconds later they were at full gallop, heading for the Ravager and its prey.

Ikrie had one arm around Aloy’s waist as she freed her sling from its holster. “Mind your left shoulder!” she called.

“Huh?” Aloy grunted. Then she realised, and tilted herself right, nocking an arrow and pulling her bowstring taut as they homed in on the Ravager. Hardpoint Arrows seemed best for this occasion. Over her shoulder, Ikrie took aim and sent a Freeze Bomb arcing overhead.

Ikrie’s bomb burst over the Ravager’s metal hide in a gout of chillwater and instantly frozen moisture in the air. Aloy’s arrow arrived a split-second later, cracking against the Machine’s cannon and spoiling its aim. The Ravager snarled, fixing immediately on the new humans in its vicinity and immediately prioritising them as greater threats.

Ikrie slipped from the Strider's back, carrying her momentum into a roll. Aloy rode on, urging her steed into a ring around the Ravager and peppering it with arrows, the better to distract it from her fellow huntress. It worked, though that meant cannon fire screaming through the air behind her as she went.

Ikrie was far from idle – after all, she wanted this to be her kill – and lobbed a couple more Freeze Bombs at the Ravager. It slowed noticeably, ice forming across its flanks. Brittle metal – just what Aloy and Ikrie needed. Aloy struck with another Hardpoint, shattering the cannon’s barrel and silencing the weapon.

That got the Ravager coming straight for her, but it meant that the still frost-rimed Machine didn’t notice the Sticky Bomb which Ikrie had sent artfully spinning towards it – to land right on its power cell. Aloy heard the telltale _plink_ of it making contact, and kicked the Strider into an even faster gallop.

It meant that she just heard the explosion and felt the wash of heat, and Ikrie’s whoop which accompanied it. She turned her Strider about and cantered to a halt next to the fallen Machine.

Ikrie was already at work with her spear, prying a fang loose. Her eyes sparkled when she looked to Aloy. “Right you were. Thanks for leaving me the kill, Hawk.”

Aloy hopped down as the tooth came free, and braced herself for a thudding hug. Ikrie’s way of expressing affection tended towards the kinetic, which Aloy was just fine with. “It was a damn good kill, Thrush.”

Ikrie gave a little giggle. “That’s gonna take some getting used to.”

Aloy raised an eyebrow. “What, doing as I ask you?”

The Banuk girl stuck out her tongue. “Doing as anyone asks.”

“Well, we can work on that.” Aloy climbed onto the Strider again and reached down to assist’s Ikrie’s springy jump up. “Still a good way to go before we reach Meridian.”

“Then let’s get going and see what else we can bag along the way,” Ikrie grinned. She wrapped one arm around Aloy’s waist, and with her free hand, pointed west. “Follow that sun!”


	2. Of Blazon and Beast

They rode over the mountain trail out of Nora territory, bagging another Sawtooth trophy along the way. Around midway they reached the edge of the mountains, and for the first time Ikrie had a view of the Sundom. “Goodness,” she said. “I never knew the world could hold this much…”

“Brown?” Aloy grinned, and then immediately looked a little regretful. “Sorry, I guess after living in the white for years it must be pretty vibrant. Goodness knows, it stunned me the first time.”

“I was going to say it looks like copper,” Ikrie smiled at her. “Like someone ground up copper and gold for pigment, and painted the land with that.” She paused, blushing. “Do I sound like a kid?”

“You sound like anyone should upon seeing a glorious new landscape,” Aloy grinned over her shoulder. “When I first got to the Cut, I think I spent a full ten minutes staring. You’d be amazed, though, how many people take a view like this for granted.”

Ikrie could only shake her head at that thought, craning to take in the whole vista. Broad rivers reflected the deep blue sky, broken by Snapmaws slipping in and out of the water. If not for that, Ikrie wistfully thought, it might be pleasurable to swim in there.

It would be good to find somewhere safe, in this land where water wouldn’t try and freeze on your skin when you got out. Might be even better to swim somewhere with Aloy, she thought, feeling the Nora woman’s taut stomach under her hands. Aloy had switched to the armour of a Carja Master Hunter, and it left her midriff bare.

Which had a certain appeal, Ikrie had to admit. Absentmindedly, not even fully aware she was doing it, she stroked with a thumb.

Aloy started. They both started, Ikrie enough that she almost tumbled off their mount. “Oh Aloy, I’m sorry! I got, ah, distracted.”

Aloy regarded her with a slightly guarded but… amused expression? “That’s OK, Ikrie. It’s a lot to take in, isn’t it?

“Uh huh,” Ikrie breathed, the realisation rattling around her brain that Aloy might actually like her touch. “Right, I’m good to go. Let’s explore, and maybe find a couple more trophies.”

Carja Blazon wear – a suit Aloy had worn before she acquired the new one, and had maintained lovingly – took some getting used to. Even after days wearing lighter clothes, Ikrie felt almost naked in it, but the freedom of movement it afforded her was sublime. They darted down the slopes now, slipping to a halt in some long grass.

“What’s wrong?” Ikrie asked. Aloy looked at her and pointed at what she’d seen – tracks, made with clawed metal feet. Ikrie gave a sharp intake of breath. “ _Ah_. Sawtooth or Ravager?”

“Gonna say…” Aloy touched a hand to her Focus. The device could read the slight differences, gauge the telltale signs of extra weight and advise her that this was most likely… “Ravager.”

Ikrie let out a low whistle. Then she frowned, listening. Aloy heard it too, the low throb of a machine’s motors.

They both shrank down into the grass as long yellow spines appeared from behind a boulder. Then a jutting cannon – Aloy had been right. Then the full bulk of the Ravager prowled into the open, growling. Perhaps their voices had drawn it.

But it hadn’t seen them yet. There was time to formulate a plan. That gave them an advantage, the sort which could make the difference between a controlled hunt and a desperate fight for one’s life.

“How about this time,” Aloy said. “I freeze, and you smash it? With a Ravager, it works better with a Freeze Arrow.”

“How so?”

Aloy pointed. “There’s a cannister of Chillwater on the chest. I can get an angle on it, a good three-arrow shot that should hamper it nicely. Just have a few bombs ready to go.”

“On it,” Ikrie grinned, and slinked off down the slope. Aloy reached for a rock, and cautiously tested the weight, ready for the throw.

Despite Ikrie’s smile, her heart was pounding away. That felt slightly foolish to her, deep down. She and Aloy had, after all, taken down a Ravager yesterday. They'd even faced a Scorcher together back in the Cut – which, she reminded herself, was deemed more dangerous by seasoned hunters – but that one they’d had more time to prepare for. And crucially, their first move had been to blast the mine launcher off its back. Just as they had the Ravager of yesterday, when they'd had rather more mobility thanks to the Strider.

As for Sawteeth, Ikrie knew those. She’d faced them several times, and been taught well the ways to bring them down. A Ravager’s cannon complicated those equations. Not to mention that with a few bounds, it could easily catch them with its teeth and claws.

Aloy’s proposed first move on the Ravager was rather riskier. Catching its Chillwater reservoir and freezing it would be tricky to line up, so their only real chance to do it was before the Machine knew they were there. Ikrie could line up a throw of her own to land a bomb on the cannon and do away with that. Hopefully.

Her mouth was dry as she set a couple of explosive traps, drawing further back into the grass. Aloy’s rock _clacked_ on the dry ground, and the throb of the Ravager’s motors made Ikrie’s gums itch as it moved by.

Ikrie set a sticky bomb in her blast sling, took aim, waiting, knowing she couldn’t hold this forever…

Aloy’s threefold shot snapped from her hidden position and where they hit, snow-white vapour billowed. Ikrie’s bomb was already sailing through the air as the Nora broke cover and caught on the armour right next to the Machine’s gun.

That cannon was already coming to life with a flash of blue and an ominous _vwhorp_ before it began chittering, pursuing the attacker. Aloy dived behind Ikrie, already nocking a Hardpoint Arrow. Ikrie herself had a proximity bomb ready to go.

The Chillwater cannister burst, skinning the Ravager in blue-white ice and turning its armour brittle. Then the bomb went off, and the cannon fragmented, torn loose along with a good portion of armour. Ikrie lobbed her second bomb, and Aloy scored another hit which shattered a plate on the Machine’s flank. Two good, damaging hits.

For all that, a Ravager was designed not to relent until its prey was dead, and despite the damage done, this one came on with a vengeance. The bombs Ikrie had set hurt it more, but they barely slowed it. Aloy got another shot off, but all Ikrie had time to do was leap away, rolling clumsily when she landed.

“Keep running!” came Aloy’s shout. She heard an impact, a snarl of anger from the Ravager close, very close behind her and… a fizzing noise?

It barely registered to her. She had to run, she could feel the Machine behind her.

Then from behind her there came a loud snap and sizzle, and a fierce, hot pain along her limbs which staggered her. She tripped and fell, grabbing her spear and rolling to see… the Ravager, lying prone as electricity crackled over its metal hide.

“Get it!” Aloy cried again, and Ikrie didn’t need telling twice. She leapt up to the Ravager and thrust her spear right into the jaws, the point exploding from the back of its head in a shower of sparks. The red lights of its eyes died, and the whole Machine slumped, dead.

With an effort, Ikrie retrieved her spear and stood for a moment, leaning heavily on the weapon until Aloy reached her.

“I got its power cells with a Shock Arrow,” Aloy said by way of explanation. “It was the quickest way to halt it again, but I’m sorry for the sting.”

Ikrie snorted, shaking her head. “I’ll take the sting if it saves my life. Though speaking of sting, _oww_.” She had gone to touch her upper arm and her fingers came away bloody.

“Ooh,” Aloy said sympathetically, and moved to her side, pulling a medicine pouch from her belt and reaching into it. “Downsides of Carja wear, I’m afraid. You’re exposed to a few things Banuk gear protects against, besides weapons.”

“Noted,” Ikrie said, as she let Aloy apply a little mixture to her grazed arm. “Still suits me though, right?”

Aloy smiled. “Pleasingly rugged, Ikrie.” And Ikrie couldn’t quite miss the little skip of her heart at those words. “Though I’ve got another mixture you might want to apply before the sun gets much higher. The rays out here aren’t all that kind to Nora skin, let alone Banuk.”

“I guessed,” Ikrie said. “Sunburn off snow is something we’re warned about as pups, Aloy.”

“Sorry.” Aloy looked rather bashful now, and knelt to start looting the Ravager. “It’s just I’ve brought you to a strange land, and it’s easy to get carried away worrying about that. And you _are_ my Thrush, after all.”

Ikrie got to work as well, looking for a suitable trophy. “Reckon a claw will do, Aloy?”

“Maybe a bit of the faceplate will do better. Some of the older Hawks will grumble about you trying to pass off Sawtooth bits, otherwise.”

“OK.” Ikrie jammed her spearpoint into a crack in the white armour and pried one side loose, snatching it up when it came away. When she looked up, she found Aloy regarding her. “What is it?”

“Just that you take to looting easily,” Aloy told her. “The trio of hunters I helped get out of the Cut, the Shattered Hearts, they needed teaching by an Oseram expert. And they still took a while to adjust to the idea. You though, you’re already doing it handily, and you don’t seem exactly hesitant.”

That wasn’t a thought which had really occurred to Ikrie in their time travelling together. “It’s necessary,” she said. “Particularly if, after the ordeal and my ‘failure’, I was going to be running alone. No merchant I sold parts to had to know that there hadn’t actually been a Shaman present to bless the Machine.” She couldn’t keep a scowl from her face, and she could feel tears just behind it. “My people have some… frustrating views on what holds us back unnecessarily, and what doesn’t.”

“You’re still thinking about Mailen?” Aloy said softly. “Sorry Ikrie, I should’ve asked.”

“It’s alright,” Ikrie said hastily, trying to banish the moment of weakness. “But thanks. Shall we press on?”

Aloy looked at her like she didn’t entirely believe her words, but said nothing of it. “Sure. There ought to be a Broadhead herd over the next rise.”

So that was the way they went, luring one of the horned Machines out from its fellows and subduing it. Then Ikrie climbed up, finding her now familiar place behind Aloy, and they rode, following the sun again towards Meridian.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realise I've gone large on the Ravagers so far. I'll be switching that up soon.


	3. The City of the Sun

Ikrie couldn’t rightfully say when the great city began to loom ahead of them. There was the sense of _something_ ahead. She reckoned that it came around about the time when the orange-brown earth began to give way to greenery. Greenery like Ikrie had never seen even in the warmest Banuk summer. There was a lush quality here which the cold of home must chase out, she thought.

Or maybe it was that the sun was kinder here, like the Carja maintained. The clan who raised Ikrie had always insisted that it brought weakness. The Carja were swaddled in warmth by their home, they said, even as adults. But Ikrie was long since tired of that talk. Not least as they always said the same about friendship – and look where that had got her and Mailen.

“Ikrie?” They’d slowed to a canter, and Aloy’s eyes were on her. _Damnit. Getting lax again._

“Sorry, Aloy. I got lost in thought.”

Those bright eyes showed some glimmer of an emotion which Ikrie couldn’t quite place, before Aloy assumed a reassuring smile. “You’re far from home, Ikrie. I can understand you having a lot to think about.”

She quirked an eyebrow. “Most Banuk think of that as absent-mindedness. Weakness.” She couldn’t lose that self-reproach, it seemed.

“A lot of Nora think the same,” Aloy told her. “But I’m not most Nora, and unless I’m mistake, you’re not most Banuk.”

They passed a few trade caravans along the way. Those were also new to Ikrie; back in the Cut, trade was limited to what a shaman could strip from a Machine, and what the hunters could carry.

“There’s a little market up ahead,” Aloy explained, when they left their Charger with a herd a little way downhill from the road. “Entering the city doesn’t take as long as it used to, but it still takes a fair while.”

“So there are shards to be made just selling to the newcomers!” Ikrie shook her head. “How big is this city?”

“Well,” Aloy said as they crossed a bridge over a small, fast river. There was a high arch opposite, and what looked like another, much longer gate stretching out of sight. In between, there was a grand sprawl of people, crates and barrels. This was already as large as a mid-sized werak, and Ikrie could only wonder what lay beyond.

Aloy seemed to want to take her mind off that and set her at ease. “How does the Carja stuff feel now?”

Ikrie waggled her hips a little. “I like the freedom of movement, even if it’s still peculiar to feel a breeze on my belly. How long did it take you to get used to that?”

“A fair while, and I still need an hour or so every time I cross the border from a colder land. At least you know the armour’s good, though. I wouldn’t have kept it so long otherwise.”

“Do I look as good in it as you?”

“Better, I’d say. You look quite dashing.”

Ikrie’s heart skipped a beat, and she bit her lip to restrain the _eep_ which nearly burst from her lips. “Careful now. Much more praise from you, and my head won’t fit under that arch.”

Aloy put her spear away as they near the guards, and Ikrie followed suit. “You mentioned feeling a breeze. How about other people’s eyes?” The Nora woman gave Ikrie a slightly guilty look. “I don’t know if I shouldn’t have said before.”

“Well, what can we do at this point? Back up and I change back into my furs?”

“I’ve got some Carja silks,” Aloy said. “They’re not protective like the Blazon gear, but they’ll give you more coverage.”

“Thanks, but it’s OK,” Ikrie smiled. “I’m aware my belly’s almost reflective, I’m that pale, but I can live with a couple of looks.” She punched Aloy lightly on the arm. “If it gets too much, I can always hide behind the woman who led the battle for Meridian.” Not to mention that she had Aloy’s assurance that she looked good. That counted for a lot.

A long bridge brought them to… _Huh, another bridge_. And a temple, by the looks of it. A priest outside exchanged a wary look with Aloy, and seemed to be on the verge of cursing her, to judge by his venomous expression.

Ikrie caged her curiosity until they were well past him and out of earshot. “Is he an old friend?”

“An old pain in the butt,” Aloy said. “That’s Abiding Jahamin. I had a set-to with him over people having access to the temple. He had a problem with the relatives of Oseram visiting the place they died to build.”

_Well, that’s as grim as I’d expected._ Ikrie knew her history, and she couldn’t help but linger on the sacrifices which the Carja were once known for. “He did look… old,” she said, turning an unpleasant thought over in her head. “Was he involved in the sacrifices?”

“I’m afraid so,” Aloy said, her face grave. “He’s the last of the old guard here, for what that’s worth. Avad would’ve got rid of him by now, were it not for fear of causing unrest. It’s all a difficult balance, here in Meridian. Reform gradually, or drive the traditionalists over to the Carja in Shadow.”

“Compromise.” Banuk tended to make it a dirty word, and Ikrie said it as such now. “That man blessed the slaughter of my people and yours – as much as the Nora are your people,” she added hastily. “He would’ve overseen them being cast into pits to be ripped apart by Machines, and called it holy.”

Aloy halted, staring at her with a new tenderness. “Did you lose someone? Or more than someone?”

Ikrie hesitated, gritting her teeth. “No direct relatives… that I know of. But I never knew my parents, and every Werak lost someone to the Red Raids. For all I know, they or an uncle, aunt or grandparent were taken and sacrificed to the sun’s thirst. Or maybe all of them.”

“Oh, Ikrie,” Aloy breathed. “I’m so sorry, I hadn’t thought of that at all.”

“It’s alright.”

“No it’s not.” Aloy moved closer. “Not alright at all, and of course you should feel that way.” Her eyes were soft, and a little colour rose in her cheeks. “Can I at least give you a hug? For all the good it’ll do.”

“I think it’ll do some good,” Ikrie said, and managed to smile back at her. Her breath hitched a little when Aloy put her arms around her, and she let a couple of tears slip from her eyes.

There were Banuk sayings about tears, about how to cry was to be punished by the tears freezing on one’s face. But they were a long way from the Cut and Ban-Ur now, and no Chieftain or Shaman had authority over her any longer. So she let the tears out.

Aloy patted her shoulders. “Just let me know when you’re good to carry on, Ikrie.”

With a sniffle, Ikrie moved her head to meet the Nora’s eyes. “I think I’m good now, Aloy.”

She still got a gentle squeeze before Aloy let go, and they started walking again. Now she saw the city rising before them, and the vineyards and fields which stretched out in the valley below.

“By the Blue…” she breathed. “This is unlike anything I’ve seen.” The city seemed to spread its arms wide before her, ready to engulf and embrace her. Ikrie felt a strange urge to run towards it, to sink into this strange, fantastical new place.

One thing nagged at her though, and she had to bring it up before the city overwhelmed her and the thought was lost. “Aloy, if you don’t mind me asking, you talk about the Red Raids very coolly. Strangely so, given how every Tribe suffered. How’s that?”

“Well,” Aloy paused to frame her response. “I wasn’t raised in the Nora tribe, not fully in by any means. As an Outcast, my world was Rost and one or two Outcasts we ran into on occasion. And Outcasts are meant to hold themselves apart, even from their fellow exiles. The Derangement… coincided with my birth, and the Red Raids that came in response happened some years after that.”

_Why did she pause like that? Like there’s something else under the words, but she’s nervous to say them._ But Ikrie let Aloy continue.

“What even Rost knew of affairs beyond the Embrace was limited, after he became Outcast. Before, even-” another plainly pregnant pause “-and he was on his own for years before I was handed to him. After that point, a baby Aloy rather dominated his life. So the first I really knew of the Red Raids was when I went to Mother’s Heart and watched a Sun Priest dodging lobbed fruit. I had no idea why the Nora would be doing such a thing because back then, I wasn’t really Nora. In a lot of ways, I’m still not.”

_Even more mysteries_ , Ikrie thought. _You’re like a Cauldron or a ruin._ She shook her head. _Alright, that last one’s a bad comparison. But you’ve got depths that I can’t see, and I wonder just what’s down there_. She let it lie for now. It wouldn’t do to offend her lone guide and would-be sponsor in the Hunters Guild.

And more than that, she already thought of Aloy as a friend. Maybe, if she let herself get hopeful, not just a friend. Looking at her produced a feeling in Ikrie’s chest, like someone tugging gently at her heart. She knew what that meant; she used to feel it when she saw Mailen, and the mere thought of her caused Ikrie a sharp pang.

_All the more reason not to speak without caution, and offend the girl you like._

“Then you’ve lived the outsider life more than I ever have,” she said. “I assumed that you’d lived in a settlement ‘til something… happened.”

“Like Rost was cast out, you mean? And I went with him as a child?” An enigmatic but sorrowful expression flitted across Aloy’s face. “It really wasn’t like that. Maybe, sometime, I’ll tell you about it.” For the moment, they pressed on.

Meridian had seemed vast from a distance, and that was before they got into the packed, noisy streets. It was hectic enough that few enough of them even got a chance to recognise Aloy.

The thoroughfares were full of people stood by stalls and on top of crates, all bellowing repetitive cries. Priests? Worshippers? Then she managed to pick out individual words, and realised she had it wrong.

“Finest silks, gorgeously coloured! Your elegance will be assured!”

“Oseram plate, hard enough to stop a Sawtooth bite!”

“Weapons out of the Shadow, deadly as they come!”

“Potions, traps, arrows!”

_These are vendors. People who live solely by buying or selling, maybe never even touching a bow or sling. Bizarre._ She could well imagine the scorn, and the words which her people would’ve had for this, were they here to see it.

But Ikrie found it rather hard to begrudge them. Certainly not when it made for a spectacle like this.

Aloy caught the look on her face and grinned. “It overwhelmed me the first time. Quite a bustle, isn’t it?”

Ikrie nodded, letting Aloy lead her through the crowded streets. Then her stomach rumbled, and that spurred her into speaking up. “Uh, Aloy,” she said. “I’m rather aware that we didn’t hunt anything on the way here, and my belly’s feeling kinda hollow.”

“Fear not,” Aloy smiled over her shoulder. “There’s a solution right ahead. It’ll just take a few minutes and a handful of shards.”

“Solu-” But then a sizzling noise impinged on Ikrie’s hearing, and with it came the smell of roasting meat. Pork, goose, chicken, goat… and spices, so many and plenty of which she couldn’t hope to put a name to.

“Three skewers each please,” Aloy said, stopping at one stall where little chunks of meat and vegetable turned slowly over coals. “A mix, if you please.”

“That’ll cost extra, my lady,” cautioned the vendor, though it was a rather half-hearted warning. Ikrie guessed that from her and Aloy’s garb, they must look like they were doing quite well for shards. And besides, this was the woman who’d led the defence of Meridian against the armies of Hades.

“Fine by me. I’ve got a friend from the Banuk here, who’s not experienced Carja cooking before.”

The vendor looked past her to Ikrie, and perked up noticeably. “Oh, well then we must aim to impress indeed!”

Carja flamboyance was going to take some getting used to, Ikrie thought, but Carja cuisine was already to her taste. The meat was tender and spicy, but not unreasonably so, the vegetables pleasantly crispy.

“How is it?” Aloy asked.

“Good. _Mm hmm_ , very good.” She didn’t say anything else for a while, devouring the meat and vegetables before Aloy found a bin for the wooden skewers. “ _Ah._ So when do we get to the Lodge?”

“Not before we clean you up a little,” Aloy told her, grinning amusedly. “And you don't have a handy cloth on you, do you?”

“I may have neglected to pack one.” Ikrie licked her lips and found that yes, there was a fair bit of sauce and juice there. “Oops.”

Aloy drew closer. “No good just licking, it’s halfway down your chin.” She produced her own bit of fabric and delicately wiped around Ikrie’s mouth, one eyebrow cocked in mock-exasperation. “Mucky pup.”

Ikrie couldn’t help but giggle, which made her feel deeply foolish until Aloy let out a chuckle of her own. “So, Hawk, am I presentable now?”

“I should think so.” Aloy winked. “Follow.”


	4. In the Lodge

The Lodge was pleasantly quiet and cool, a low hubbub coursing through the wide space as Aloy and Ikrie stepped through the doorway. Aloy always found it a pleasant break from the city’s bustle. Not that it wasn’t impressive in itself. It couldn’t be otherwise, with a Thunderjaw carcass mounted at the centre of the room.

That stopped Ikrie in her tracks, gawping in a way that would almost certainly mark her as a rank outsider. But she clearly couldn’t help it – any more than Aloy had when she first entered, she reminded herself. “ _How?_ ” she asked Aloy, gesturing bewilderedly at the towering Machine.

“With several carts,” Aloy said.

Then a new voice broke in. “And a good few days of back-breaking labour for the slaves who then served the Lodge, while the Sunhawk stalked around and berated them for not handling his prize better.”

Aloy caught Ikrie’s questioning look and gave her a reassuring smile before she turned. Talanah, armoured in the same manner as Aloy, approached them.

“Sunhawk?” Ikrie started, hesitantly.

Talanah shot Aloy an amused look and smiled. “Not quite so formal as that. Talanah Khane Padish at your service.” She gave Ikrie that kind of look that didn’t _seem_ to scrutinise, and turned to Aloy. “Won’t you introduce me?”

Aloy grinned and gestured. “Ikrie of the Banuk, lately of the Cut.”

“Ah, another from the frozen wilds.” Her eyes swept quickly over Ikrie’s Blazon ensemble. “My, you’ve adapted to the climate rather quicker than your countryman.” She nodded to a broad-shouldered Banuk man who, unlike Ikrie, was still wearing his native gear. “I guess you’re less of a traditionalist than Ardik, not least if you’re ranging with Aloy.”

Aloy smiled, and put her arm around Ikrie’s shoulders. “Ikrie’s a rather unique Banuk, and one of the best friends I’ve found anywhere. Not to mention a damn good hunter.”

Ikrie shuffled awkwardly, a bashful expression on her face. “I hope good enough to find a place here. If you’ll have me in the first place,” she haltingly added.

“Oh, fear not. You’re exactly the sort of person I’d like to welcome in,” Talanah said. “I can’t help noting what looks like a sack of trophies. But come, grab a drink with me for now. Nectarwine as usual, Aloy?”

“Yes please. Ikrie, can I tempt you?”

“I could hardly say no,” Ikrie murmured, her eyes still on everything around them.

Talanah led them to a small table and three cups were brought out for them – polished brass, the very best for the Sunhawk. Aloy took a sip of her drink; as with the food, she savoured the rich produce of the Sundom. To her relief, Ikrie seemed to like it too.

“How do you like the Sundom, Ikrie?” Talanah asked.

Ikrie smiled. “Too early to tell, but so far I like the look of the Lodge. Seems a good place to me, all the more so if a woman like you is in charge. Admittedly I took the liberty of finding a Hawk to sponsor me.”

“And you went and got your trophies in advance. A woman of action.” She leaned forward a little. “I approve.”

“The Banuk ways don’t allow for words. You need deeds to get anything done. Just ask Aloy how she became Chieftain of a Werak.”

“I _beg_ your pardon?” It came out as a yelp, and a few heads turned in their direction. “Aloy, I need that story this very moment.”

That story then ran for a good hour, peppered with interjections from both Ikrie and Talanah – each of them had questions, though at other points Ikrie piped up to corroborate Aloy’s tale. At points, she also went to her pack, picking out a trophy from one of the new breeds of Machine they’d fought out there. Talanah made noises about possibly coming with them if they ever ventured back.

“And then, when you’d completed your search, you just handed the title back to Aratak?”

“Absolutely. No way I’m getting tied down to one place, and certainly not one that cold. I mean, the best company I found in the Cut is still with me now.”

Ikrie flashed a bright smile of her own, before a nervous look came into her eyes. “Uh, not to lower the tone, but where can I… Aloy tells me you have them in doors…”

“The toilet?” Talanah gave a small smile and pointed fractionally to a door in the corner. “That way, Ikrie. You’ll see the markers for women and men.”

“Thanks,” Ikrie breathed. “I’ve seen away a lot more water than I usually do today.” With that, she slipped away and made hastily for the door in question.

Talanah just about suppressed a giggle. “Culture shock?”

Aloy thought about it, and shrugged. “Not as much as I expected. Then again, she’s pretty rootless. She doesn’t really fit anywhere back in her homeland, and I can relate to that.”

“And she’s pretty.” Talanah’s eyebrows rose cheekily, which was when Aloy knew that her burning cheeks had given her away. “Hey, there’s no shame in that. She _is_ very pretty, and I’m sure she’s more than that if you’re hunting with her.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Aloy said warily as she reached for her cup.

“I think you know that. You’ve always been something of a lone hunter.” Talanah leaned back, gesturing with her own cup as she regarded Aloy. Was that amusement in her eyes? “Even when we handled the Glinthawks at Lone Light, I knew you’d be most comfortable being solitary.”

“Fair points, all,” Aloy conceded. She sighed. “You really have rumbled me. I ran across Ikrie in a Banuk trial of endurance.”

“Which you disrupted.” Aloy gave Talanah a hard look, and the Sunhawk spread her arms with a broad grin. “Come on, Aloy, it’s you! What else should I have expected?”

Aloy sighed. “Guilty as charged. And I suppose you’ll want to know how?”

“I can guess. Ikrie was in trouble-”

“She wasn’t,” Aloy interrupted. “At least, she wasn’t directly. She fights so damn well, Talanah… but she’d gone with a companion, a friend. Mailen. And Mailen took a fall somewhere up on this glacier and broke her leg. Fell into a fever.”

Talanah took a fruit from a silver bowl on their table. “Good thing she had a friend to look after her.”

“Ah, but there’s the thing. The trial is that you can’t seek or even accept from another during the trial. You go together, but on the glacier you fight on your own. Mailen wanted the initiation so badly she’d drive Ikrie away. She was willing to die rather than betray the spirit of the text.”

“Now I think I begin to see how much you and Ikrie had in common,” Talanah mused. “Let me see if I can work out the rest. You found Ikrie beset by Machines and helped her destroy you. She told you all of this and you both agreed that a life mattered more than the rules, so you went with her and fought your way to Mailen’s side. At this point, however, I’m sensing a _but._ ” She gestured for Aloy to continue.

“You’re not wrong. Ikrie splinted Mailen’s leg, but of course Mailen couldn’t thank her for it. Ikrie had violated the rules and destroyed, so she thought, any hope of her joining the Werak. Which was where I came in again, because Ikrie’s solution was to never go back herself. So I returned to the hunters and told them that their second initiate was dead, lost on the ice.”

“A hell of a sacrifice.”

“Hell is right.” Aloy tried and failed to keep the emotion from her face. “She said at the time that she’d always wanted to be an ‘ice ghost’, but I saw how much it hurt her that night. There was no mistaking it. So I sought her out a while after that, up at the hunting ground, and we ranged together.”

“And you decided that you liked looking at those pretty blue eyes,” Talanah prodded.

“No – well, yes. Partly that,” Aloy conceded. “But the bigger thing is that I know that pain of hers. I had it as well when Rost left me, because I was to cease being Outcast. Couldn’t leave Ikrie to stew in that hurt, not alone in the cold.”

“So you took an ice ghost, and got a snow thrush.” Talanah looked up and smiled. “Speaking of whom…”

Ikrie rejoined them, slipping back into her seat.

“Trust that wasn’t too strange?” Aloy asked, mindful that one of the reasons that traditionalist Banuk thought the Carja decadent was their insistence on keeping matters of hygiene indoors, if they could help it.

“Are you kidding?” Ikrie responded, all but bouncing in her seat. “I can actually still feel my-” She caught herself. “Too much information. Sorry. Not used to refined Carja company. It made a nice change from home, is all.”

Talanah’s eyebrows looked to be at risk of flying away entirely before she resumed her usual reserved expression.

“I think I see how you two came to fit so well together. Which is just as well, because I have a contract for you, Aloy, and for Ikrie here.”

“A challenging one?” Aloy asked.

“There are rarely any other kinds, but absolutely in this case. Your Thrush needs a chance to prove herself, my fiery little Hawk. And I got a contract just this morning which needs a smart, resourceful hunter or two.” She caught the curiosity in their faces and leaned forward conspiratorially. “Ever heard of a Clawstrider, Ikrie?”


	5. Clawstrider

It stood taller than a Sawtooth, perched on two legs and sporting viciously clawed hands. It looked, Ikrie thought, like someone had taken a Watcher and decided to make one a hunter-killer in its own right. When it turned, the sunlight caught on a sickle-shaped talon, one on each foot. Those were made, she immediately knew, for slicing and opening up soft bellies.

That was how it got its name, and it was clear why. But when it opened its mouth, that didn’t look any less deadly. The teeth of the lower jaw, it appeared, were set on tracks of some sort. The purpose of that became clear with a buzz of servos, which turned the Clawstrider’s teeth into a blur of rending motion. Pair that with the hooked fangs of the upper jaw, which looked like they would sink into place and hold, while the moving teeth… Ikrie gulped, and studied the machine for anything else of note.

_Well, not much in the way of vulnerabilities._ Two Metal Vessels extending from the hip. Some armoured plates on the chest and the back. It didn’t look as substantial as most other Machines of its kind, but she was prepared to bet it would be faster. Slim strips of metal lined the Machine’s body and limbs, resembling scales. Actually, she thought, sneaking a glance as Aloy’s armour, not so much scales as feathers.

“So that’s a Clawstrider?” she hissed in Aloy’s ear. “Never seen anything like them.”

Aloy gave her a small, comforting smile at the admission. Then she clicked her neck and rolled her shoulders. “They’re a new breed – I’ve only seen them in the Sundom.” She paused, and corrected herself. “So far.”

“Maybe this is how non-Banuk feel when they see a Scorcher.” _Albeit without having to worry about those horrid mine-launchers,_ she considered. _Or the fire breath_.

“Or two,” Aloy said, pointing and grimacing. Sure enough, when Ikrie looked, she caught a telttale glint of metal. At least one other Clawstrider. “Probably best to check if there are any more.”

There were three of them, all told, which they found out as they traversed the edge of the zone.

“As quick and nasty as they look,” Ikrie said. “Just like Talanah said. Which makes them a tricky proposition. So we’re using Frost?”

“More likely Shock. Anything that’ll slow them down.”

Ikrie nodded, and tried to suppress a pang as a thought occurred to her. _This will be the first new Machine I face without Mailen_. She saw Aloy’s questioning look, and mustered a smile. _It’ll be alright. I’ve got her._

That thought, coming unbidden as it did, made her heart skip. She tried to push the thought to one side and regain her focus, but too late. “So, who’s staring now?” smirked Aloy, her eyes twinkling with amusement.

Ikrie stuck her tongue out at her, the kind of childish gesture that always drove Mailen to exasperation, but seemed to amuse Aloy. Then she tried to regain some semblance of dignity and thoughtfulness. “Seeing as these Machines don’t have any ranged weapons-”

“As Talanah said.”

“As Talanah said.” She gave Aloy a look. “I’m not trying to impugn the good word of your – I mean _our_ Sunhawk. Just, you know how the Banuk teach hunters.”

Aloy smiled. “ _Never assume that another hunter’s word is good enough. Wait, look and listen for yourself._ At least, that was Rost’s version of it.”

Ikrie watched her companion cautiously, choosing her words with some care. “I think I prefer that over how my teachers put it. But finally circling back to my own point…” And here she gave the redhead a chastising look. “They’ll have to come to us. Assuming your Focus thing hasn’t picked up any hidden nastiness.” Aloy reassuringly shook her head. “So if we lay some tripwires, we can lure them into a whole world of hurt.”

Encouragingly, Aloy had reached for her Tripcaster before she’d even finished talking. “Good call. So if we head back up to that bit of high ground there, we can lay down a few wires.”

The spot she indicated lay between two large boulders, those sitting about ten feet apart and maybe five times that from the Machines. That could work as a vantage, but Ikrie was struck by the realisation that if the Clawstriders did reach them there, they’d be easily hemmed in. They’d have to take care that their shelter didn’t become a trap.

“We’ll need to set some traps around those rocks,” she said. “If I put down some blast ones, that could drive the Machines into the middle, right into our line of fire. Sound good?”

“I like it.”

Ikrie both appreciated and hated this sort of prolonged setup for a fight. She’d happily take any advantage, no argument there. Especially against an unfamiliar foe. That said, it also left her to think for an uncomfortably long time. She had to stop herself from trying to rehearse the fight in her head, to keep her mind open that she couldn’t predict its course. Especially against an unfamiliar foe.

Ten minutes’ work had them about as ready as they could hope to be, with a few,

“Maybe we can start with a Hardpoint Arrow,” Aloy mused. “Or three,” she added, laying a trio along her bowstring. “Let’s take a strip off one.”

“Suit yourself.” Ikrie dropped a Shock Bomb into her sling. “On the count of three?”

“Sure. One two…”

A slingshot didn’t travel as fast as an arrow, so Aloy’s Hardpoint struck home with its satisfying crunch while Ikrie’s bomb was still arcing through the air. Still, Ikrie had put plenty of power into the shot, and the Clawstrider had only just recoiled from the arrow, its vicious jaw askew, when the bomb hit and stripped the armour from its flank, along with a few of its long ‘feathers’.

The blue eyes flashed to predatory red immediately, followed in turn by those of the other two. Ikrie was ready for that, but she was less prepared for the sound. A hideous shrieking _reeeeeee_ broke from all three Machines, the sort of noise that went through you and make Ikrie’s hand tighten on her sling.

Aloy recovered first, setting another Hardpoint to her string. Shamed into action, Ikrie reached for a shock bomb as the Clawstriders launched straight into a charge.

The Clawstrider in the lead lurched and snarled when Aloy’s arrow struck the armour of its chest, punching through and twisting the metal around it. “Good hit!” Ikrie called as she sent a shock bomb rocketing skywards.

That hit the second Machine, slowing it. Good. They had to space out such fast attackers.

The wounded Clawstrider tried to cut around to the side, but its manic course carried it straight across two explosive tripwires. Fire and earth fountained upwards, tearing away strips of armour and flinging the Machine into an untidy, screeching heap. Good and prone.

Ikrie grabbed a blast bomb, took aim and lobbed it – the Clawstrider didn’t even have time to get up before it struck. “ _Yes!_ ” she yelled. _No coming back from that._

“One hunter-killer down!” cheered Aloy.

That was some comfort. They definitely couldn’t take the same level of punishment as a Sawtooth or Scorcher. The flipside, however, was that the other two were closing the gap rapidly. Aloy struck the first Clawstrider on the flank, making it veer off course so it hit a shock tripwire and came to a halt, webbed by coursing electricity.

But the second came on, leaping over its paralysed fellow and spreading its clawed hands wide. Its velocity brought it through the gap between the rocks. Now their shelter was turned against them, putting them at close quarters with the predator. The Clawstrider’s lower teeth were already in whizzing, screaming, shredding motion. She and Aloy fired again. It flinched from both hits but barely lost an ounce of speed.

And it went straight for her.

“Argh!” Ikrie hurled herself backwards, the clawed foot splitting the air a hand’s breadth from her face. She transitioned into a roll born of honed reflexes, jabbing with her spear when the Clawstrider snapped at her again. Aloy fired again, and again, arrows ripping into the armour.

But then it came at her with another lunge, a kick which she didn’t dodge. She toppled back onto the grass, and the unrelenting Machine came for her with a springy leap. Ikrie twisted to avoid the claws, crying out in naked fright. Her attacker hit hard enough to shake the ground, its talons stabbing deep into the dirt.

There wasn’t time to reflect that had she been there still, there’d be at least three massive holes in her. She was pinned down, caged by the grasping metal hands. The Clawstrider _reeeeee_ ’d into her face, before its mouth opened and the sound was lost under the vile whine of its spinning teeth. The awful mouth opened wide, filling her world…

And then there was a flash of orange-red and turquoise in the corner of Ikrie’s eye. There was the sound of metal tearing, a fizzing of electricity, and the Clawstrider howled as it toppled sideways. The whole blade of Aloy’s spear had plunged right into its side, driven by her full weight, and she let it go to help Ikrie up.

For a second, Ikrie looked at her, elated. But then came the _reeeeeee_ of the last Clawstrider, which had won free of the tripwires and was now barrelling towards them. Aloy hooked her foot under Ikrie’s discarded spear, flicked up and caught it, while Ikrie went again for her sling.

Aloy got in close, darting around the Clawstrider and rolling away from its attacks while Ikrie took aim, trying to get a clear shot. “C’mon c’mon c’mon c’mon…” she hissed, knowing how narrow any opening would be. But then she saw the coiling of its strange mechanical muscles, the Machine winding up like a spring for a lunging attack. _Now or never_.

She released the bomb. It burst on the Clawstrider’s flank and its leap went wide. Aloy didn’t miss a beat. She turned and slashed with her spear, dragging the edge across the Machine’s armour and staggering it. It turned to attack her again, but now Ikrie had a blast bomb sailing through the air toward it. It burst against the now brittle plates on the Machine’s back and smashed its metal spine. The Clawstrider last slumped to the ground, inert.

Ikrie punched the air, letting out a fierce howl which would’ve got her a very disapproving look from her elders back home. As it was though, she had Aloy with her, and the Nora huntress was every bit as jubilant.

“That,” she said, shaking her head, “was intense. Glad we planned it out, at least the start.”

“I’ll say.” Ikrie caught her breath, and took back her spear as Aloy went to retrieve her own. “Two of those things at once would’ve been much worse.”

“Quite a test,” Aloy remarked as she planted a foot on the fallen Clawstrider and tugged her weapon free. “But at least it looks like there’s a good haul of metal on these machines, and this one’s heart still looks intact.”

Which was more than Ikrie could say for the two she’d killed. The last one to go down had a smoking crater in its side. The other among the remaining tripwires, short of a leg and an arm. Certainly not the cleanest kills.

But hey, she was here for trophies rather than parts, and to take out some Machines which would’ve threatened people’s lives. They’d succeeded on both fronts. Thanks to her and Aloy, no lives would be lost to those vicious talons. So she decided to focus on enjoying their victory.

“So,” she said to Aloy, . “Are you thinking the same as me for trophies?”

Aloy looked amusedly at her. “You’re sure the claws aren’t too obvious?”

“Not at all. Also, I want to see everyone’s faces when we walk into the Lodge with these in our hands.”

Aloy hugged her. “You’re much too endearing when you’re this cocky.”

And Ikrie wondered how much she should let the swell of warmth in her heart show. A lot, she decided. So she hugged Aloy back. “Hey, thanks for having my back again there.”

Aloy pulls back just a little to look into her eyes. “You told me, not too long ago, to put my spear beside yours. So I did.” And for a little moment, before they had to start looting, retrieving their surviving tripwires and moving on, Ikrie felt strangely complete.


	6. Back to Base

The first order of business, after the two huntresses stripped the Clawstriders for parts, was to make for Brightmarket, the village whose leaders had placed the contract for their quarry. Aloy had been instructed by Talanah to seek out Lahavis. They claimed the bounty for the Machines, along with his thanks, before selling on some parts for shards and a well-earned dinner.

Ikrie was still giddy all the way through the meal, happily chattering in between mouthfuls of food and drink. “I daresay it’ll be a Thunderjaw or a Stormbird for us next, just like when you were a Thrush yourself, hmm?”

“Most likely,” Aloy told her. “Though I don’t think you’ll be quite so wild about the idea when we actually face one of either.”

“Probably not,” Ikrie admitted. “So all the more reason to get back to the Lodge and celebrate a little, huh?”

And so they did, riding back to Meridian but this time circling around further to the south, giving Ikrie her first proper look at the city from below.

“Damn,” was the verdict. “It looks even bigger from here.” Then there was a moment of further thought. “Wait, how do we get up on the other side of the city? How does anyone get from the town below to there?”

“Ah, well.” Aloy got down off the machine, before offering a hand to help Ikrie. “I wouldn’t want to spoil the surprise for you.”

The first time she had seen the famous lifts was from the upper levels. To see them from below, seeming to shoot up from the rebuilt Meridian Village, was likely to be even more impressive.

“Blue Light in the ice” was all the words Ikrie managed for a good few minutes, upon sighting the structures. “I didn’t realise they were quite that high.” Her astonishment lasted even as they wandered through Meridian Village, the city and the lifts looming overhead despite the buildings that rose around them.

Aloy watched her with amusement. The Banuk woman looked keenly at everything around her – all but leaping on a platter of pork and pepper skewers offered by an Oseram vendor – but every minute or so, her eyes were drawn wonderingly up to the lifts.

“I see more Oseram and Banuk down here than up in the city,” Ikrie mused eventually. “Hmm, some Nora too. I suppose they’re ‘despite the Nora’ as well, hmm?”

“To varying degrees.” Aloy tilted her head thoughtfully. “Most of the Nora round here were Outcast and grew disillusioned with the Tribe’s customs, by that for a misdeed or because they strayed outside the Sacred Land. They’re no longer considered that now. You know what I said about the declaration the Matriarchs made before the Battle of the Alight?”

“Anyone who answered the call would be declared Seekers?”

“Yeah. It applied to those Nora who were already here. And while plenty of them were happy to return home…”

“I see a lot of them here, still.” Ikrie raised an eyebrow, and took another bite of pork. “That taste of freedom is hard to let go, isn’t it?”

Aloy looked at her searchingly. Ikrie, she realised, was trying to figure out whether the people here represented where she might end up, further along the snow-ghost road. She couldn’t speak for them, so she said, “From my experience, that’s certainly the case. I’ll answer a call for help, but other than that, I only need to heed the word of the Sun-King and the Hunters’ Lodge. Speaking of which, let’s get up there with your new trophies.”

Ikrie made a nervous little sound in her throat when they stepped into the lift. “It’s not quite as still as I’d have thought.”

Aloy briefly rested a comforting hand on her shoulder. “They’re tough, believe me. They were only brought down by Deathbringers in the battle, and the Carja took real care when they rebuilt them. So please, Ikrie, just try to relax, and enjoy the view.”

She pulled on the lever, and the cage door shut. Then came the little shudder of the lift rising, and Ikrie let out a little squeak of alarm.

Aloy looked at her friend. Ikrie had clamped her hands to her mouth, and was rapidly turning bright red where she’d just a moment ago been even whiter than usual. “Sorry, I just… _whoah!_ ” she murmured, leaning on the wall and staring at the shrinking village below. “Oh I, oh I wasn’t quite ready for this. Sorry, I must look the biggest coward.”

“Never,” Aloy reassured her, putting an arm round Ikrie’s shoulders and pulling her close. “I did spring this on you in the most dramatic way, after all.”

Haltingly, Ikrie returned the gesture. “You were right, by the way. It’s quite the view.” So much so, that even when the lift slowed and then stopped at the apex of its climb, she lingered, and Aloy with her until some Cajra finally asked them to vacate the cage. “Look at me,” Ikrie laughed. “Like a startled child.”

“No judgement from me,” Aloy told her. “I promise you that.”

“Thanks, Aloy – on both counts.”

After arriving at the Lodge and presenting their trophies, they were called upon to tell the story of their hunt for the Clawstriders and their subsequent battle. Aloy was never much good at this, the spinning of yarns. But at this point, to her delight, Ikrie came into her own.

Perching on a table, light dancing in her eyes, she recounted the battle, letting the tension simmer as she spoke of the menacing look of the Machines, their poise, and the care with which the two huntresses had laid their plans.

“We shaped the arena, just as our Tribes taught us,” she smiled. “And then we went to take our first shots. That’s when everything slows, when time stretches like your sling’s cord or your bowstring, and you know that it will all end unless you bend all your wits and strength to the fight. These could be your last moments, stretching out as everything grows taut, and then…” Perhaps unconsciously, she had posed as if she held her sling now, ready to fire.

Now she released the imaginary shot with a _fwoo_ of breath and launched into the fight. Her hands darted, chopping and jabbing at the air, and the Lodge rang with laughter and shouts of approval.

Aloy glanced at Talanah, sat next to her. The Sunhawk looked amused, stroking her chin, but she still leaned over to Aloy and murmured to her, “So it went more cleanly than it did for me.”

“We were two instead of one,” Aloy pointed out.

“Maybe, but Hawks and Thrushes usually take time to work that well together.” The Sunhawk regarded her warmly. “I’d say you and Ikrie have something quite special. And on that note…” She paused as Ikrie brought the tale to a close and a raucous cheer went up from the hunters around them. “Any plans for where you might range next?”

“I’m going to let my Thrush call that,” Aloy said as she beckoned Ikrie to sit with them. “Ikrie, did you get a chance to think about where we might head next?”

“I was wondering about going back to the Sun Steps,” Ikrie said. “I talked with Ardik, and he says they’ve a good hunting ground.”

“Actually, that would be the Sun Furrows,” Talanah tells her.

“Ah.” Ikrie looked rueful, though a wry smile soon brightened her eyes. “I would point out that you’d save a whole lot of confusion if only you didn’t use the word ‘sun’ for quite so many names.”

Aloy fretted for an instant that her Thrush had just committed mild blasphemy, but Talanah looked amused. “You should try the Nora. Mother’s this, Mother’s that. But I was going to say that the Furrows are themselves good and close to the Steps, and both have large Machines in abundance. Assuming, of course, that your plan’s to hunt down some more trophies.”

Aloy nodded. “That, and to drop in on my Oseram friends in Free Heap. It’s been quite a while.”

“Well, just make sure you’re back in three days’ time. Sun-King Avad is holding a feast for the anniversary.” Talanah saw the confused look on Ikrie’s face. “Of the Liberation, when the old king was deposed. Avad would be quite forlorn if Aloy didn’t attend, and I’m sure it’ll be quite fascinating for you.”

Ikrie turned an imploring expression on Aloy, who laughed and reached over to squeeze her shoulder. “Of course, Ikrie. We’ll make it a few days’ trip, and circle back.”

After that point, and with a few glasses of wine, tiredness told against them. Aloy and Ikrie wandered back to Olin’s old house, where they chastely shared the one adult-sized bed.

That felt odd to Aloy, on some level. This bed had been… loved in? Was that the right phrase for it?

The thought might not even have crossed her mind had she not been surreptitiously watching Ikrie strip down to her smallclothes and _I should really look away right now_ but she couldn’t. Not even when Ikrie turned away and the binding around her chest came away. Aloy tried to tear her eyes from Ikrie’s bare back as the Banuk huntress reached for her nightshirt. She failed miserably, and felt less guilty than she perhaps ought to.

The more she saw of Ikrie’s pale, soft skin, juxtaposed against the angular contours of her taut, honed physique, the more she felt compelled to look. _You are unhelpfully pretty, Ikrie_.

Then Ikrie pulled on a nightdress and turned to her, and it became necessary for Aloy to feign innocence and act as if she had only just looked at the other woman too. She fumbled for something to say. “Guess you don’t often get to sleep with as few layers as this, huh?”

“Nope. Honestly,” Ikrie laughed, “I feel a bit of an itch every time I see that window open, warm as it is in here.”

“But it’s a good change, right?”

“Absolutely. I’d lose all the clothes in this heat, were it not that…” Another nervous, evasive giggle. “We’d better sleep. I imagine you’ll want to be away early in the morning.”

Aloy conceded. “It is generally best if we get to Free Heap for lunchtime. Oseram cooking – well, you sampled a bit today. Hearty stuff.”

Ikrie lay down opposite her, leaving a little space between them. “Exactly what you want at the end of a long ride.”

“Yeah.”

Somewhere in Aloy’s head, a little voice piped up and told her to close the distance, to _kiss her, damnit_. But she was tired, and so it was easy to dismiss the voice and just let sleep take her. She’d reckon with it properly at a later date.


	7. Blazewing

“Huh,” Ikrie murmured, as they cantered. “I was right.”

“Hmm?” Aloy turned to look questioningly at her, over her shoulder.

Ikrie felt her cheeks grow warm. “Oh damn, did it again.”

“Talking to yourself?” Aloy favoured her with a smile that rivalled the sun above. “No judgement here, I’m the world’s worst offender. Rost used to chide me for it.”

“Uh huh?”

“Yeah.” Aloy adopted a deep, gruff voice – as far as she could manage that. “ _Aloy, if you blurt like that as one of the Tribe, they’ll have you Outcast again in a turn of the moon_.”

Ikrie snorted. “Well, now I just feel like a bad influence.”

The Nora woman shook her head. “I wouldn’t worry on that score. It’s good to have a kindred spirit… but I’m going on a tangent. What was it you were blurting there?”

“Oh that.” Ikrie pointed to the mountains, up in the northeast. “See those peaks? Mailen and I were taken there once as pups, given a view of the outside world.”

“And what were you right about?”

“I said it looked like somewhere I wanted to go. Got a clip around the ear for that and was sternly told that that was an easy land that turned people soft, and then mad.” She thought back to what she’d been told about the Red Raids. “My people always said that the Carja got weak and lounged around, so the sun boiled their brains and turned them mad.”

She could almost _hear_ Aloy’s eyebrow rise as the Seeker spoke again. “And there I was, thinking you rather liked the Carja so far.”

“Hey, I just said they talked rot, didn’t it? So far, I like the Sundom.”

Aloy looked around at her. “It seems to agree with you. You’re tanning pretty well, Ikrie.” Her eyes tipped to Ikrie’s torso and lingered for a moment before she seemed to tear herself away.

Ikrie shook it off and glanced down as well. “Huh. Yeah. Don’t think I’ve ever had my belly going brown before.”

“Suits you,” Aloy told her, smiling.

Which left Ikrie rather speechless, and feeling like it was a bit of a mercy that Aloy turned back to see the road ahead and didn’t see her silently spluttering. Could she be right? Could it be that there was something under the looks, the twinkle in the Nora’s eyes? Did she dare take that risk, even, and presume that the Seeker might actually feel something for a lost Banuk girl?

On balance, it came as something of a relief to spy something unexpected. A hillock of metal rose from the baked-orange earth, thickets of iron and plumes of smoke reaching into the sky.

“Now that’s something entirely new,” she murmured, putting a hand on Aloy’s shoulder.

“That’s Free Heap,” Aloy told her. “And that’s… oh. Oh no.”

“That’s what?” Ikrie asked, eyeing the same dark metal shape as her, circling the settlement on huge, beating wings. “Is that a – _by the Blue_ ,” she gasped as a gout of fire leapt from the Machine’s head to strike somewhere in Free Heap. “That’s not a Stormbird, is it?”

“Not at all,” Aloy said, shaking her head. She’d never seen one of these before. “Well, play this right and you’ll have your next trophy,” Aloy told her. Then she lashed the reins. “Hold on!”

It certainly wasn’t a Stormbird. Its head was closer to a Clawstrider’s or a Thunderjaw’s – some melding of the two.

“The hell do we even call that?” Aloy gasped as they sped closer.

“Uh, Blazewing?” Ikrie offered.

“That’ll do. Now see if you can get a shot.”

Luckily the Machine’s attention was on Free Heap – for a certain value of lucky, anyway. But it was wheeling and swooping in a manner that was unhelpful, to put it mildly. And every swoop meant another blast of fire dousing part of the settlement.

Ikrie gritted her teeth. “Gonna be hard with the sling.”

“Then use my bow!” Aloy twisted just a little, for Ikrie to pluck the bow off her shoulder.

“Right. Shock arrows?”

Ikrie drew the arrow from the proferred quiver. Next, she grunted with effort as she clamped her thighs tight to the Charger’s flanks and drew back the bowstring.

She leaned back, trying to get just the right angle. Aloy reached behind her to help steady her companion, aiming to grip her tunic. For once though, her aim was off.

Both of them started when Aloy’s hand alighted on Ikrie’s thigh, and Ikrie could practically hear the thoughts running through Aloy’s mind: _Wait, no, that’s not her tunic. That’s her thigh._ Despite everything, it brough the Nora up short for a moment. Then she seemed remember to the bigger picture and tell herself o _h, what the hell._

So she tightened her hold on Ikrie’s thigh and rode on. Ikrie refocused too, took aim again, and let fly.

Aloy had made the right call. A shudder ran through the winged shadow as sparks cascaded across its skin. It dipped in the air, righting itself with a vigorous couple of flaps. Then it dived on the two mounted hunters, jaws opening wide.

“Hold on!” Aloy yelled, tugging hard on the reins. The Charger veered left as a volcanic blast of flame billowed from its mouth, rippling over the ground where the Machine and its riders and had just been.

Ikrie gasped. They’d got clear of it by a good few feet, but she still felt the wash of heat. The hairs on her arms had singed, she could feel it.

“Fire again!” Aloy told her.

Ikrie turned, and found the Blazewing had wheeled to come after them. A croaking roar broke from its mouth, followed by a small blast of fire. “Down!” she cried, and it whipped over their heads.

The Blazewing had pinions as wide as a Stormbird’s, but it didn’t fly like one. Its wings were sheets of black membrane, with skeletal metal arms stretching across them. When it flew close, Ikrie noted long, clawed fingers.

It was fast, keeping stubbornly on their tail. _We’re one target,_ she thought. _We’re one target, but we could be two._

She clamped a hand over Aloy’s shoulder. “I’m getting down! Take the bow!”

“What?”

Ikrie simply shoved it at her. “Here!”

Aloy didn’t argue, and grabbed the weapon. Ikrie leapt from the Charger’s back, loading her sling and firing as the Blazewing went for Aloy. This one was a telling hit, and the Machine seized up, crashing to earth.

It didn’t walk like a Stormbird or Glinthawk either, when it came down with a thump. The wings folded so the clawed hands met the ground, and the creature moved in a waddle which would’ve been comical, if it weren’t such a large and menacing Machine.

Ikrie didn’t try to take the first shot, diving to the side as the fire breath loosed again. But the Oseram, up on their walls, were free to make their own attacks. Bright blue projectiles shrieked as they flew through the air and smacked down on the Blazewing’s back.

Chunks of armour were tossed high into the air. Blaze ignited in geysers of flame, doing even more damage.

Seizing her chance, Ikrie landed a telling hit with a shock bomb, followed with a crackling arrow from Aloy, and the Blazewing seized up once more. Ikrie was already in motion, spear in hand, and threw herself forward, all her weight behind the weapon. It punched through the roof of the Machine’s mouth and exploded from the back of its head.

Instantly, the giant went limp, crumpling to the ground in a confusion of metal limbs. In death, it threatened to look comical. Except for its finger-length teeth, so close to Ikrie’s face, and the furnace heat it gave off.

She’d brought down a dozen Bellowbacks and felt the heat radiate from their bodies, but it didn’t come close to this. She retrieved her spear quickly and turned to find Aloy swinging down from the saddle, rushing to embrace her.  
She thudded into Ikrie, hugging her tight. “Snow Thrush, can you not scare me like that again? Just for a little while?”

Ikrie let out a small chuckle when she regained her breath. “The opening was there, Hawk, and we had people who were in danger. I had to take it.”

“I know, Ikrie, I know. Just… _grah_. Don’t like fretting about you.”

_Be still, my skipping heart. I can’t be more worked up over this woman hugging me than a Machine fight. That would just be absurd_. Her skipping heart, as if it needed saying, begged to differ.

Aloy must’ve been looking past her, at the downed Blazewing. “Best to ask the Oseram first, but I think you’ve earned yourself another trophy already.”

Ikrie saw movement by the gate, and people came trudging out. “I think we’ll able to ask in just a-”

“Aloy!” came a shout from a stocky Oseram woman. “Say hello before you get lost in canoodling.”

Ikrie blushed immediately. To her surprise, Aloy turned just as bright a shade of red, and turned to face the Oseram woman. “Sorry, Petra.”

_Ah_. Ikrie scrutinised Petra keenly. _I thought the woman who ran Free Heap would be… bigger, somehow._

“Well, there’s an easy way to make it up.” Up close, Petra was a little smaller than Aloy and Ikrie, albeit well-built. She had short hair which, despite its limited length and a bandana, still contrived to be unruly. Her eyes sparkled with amusement as she regarded Ikrie. “Your intriguing little snowball here did, after all, knock that monster out of the sky.”

“We’re calling it a Blazewing,” Ikrie said, doing her best to shrug off the praise.

Petra quirked an eyebrow. “Are we now? Well, to the one who fells it…” She stepped forward, offering a hand. “Petra Forgewoman.”

“Ikrie.”

“A pleasure.” Petra gives Aloy a broad smile. “I didn’t realise you’d be bringing anyone back from the Cut. Lone huntress and all that.”

Aloy shrugs. “I hadn’t meant to, but well, you saw how Ikrie and I work together.” She turns serious. “Anyone hurt up in the Heap?”

Petra shakes her head. “No more than some minor burns, though it could’ve been worse had you not shown. Never seen one of these before.” Thinking for a moment, she adds “I suppose I have to thank you again for the cannons, don’t I, Aloy?”

“Let my Thrush claim a trophy, and I’ll consider it all good.”

“Stay for lunch and it’s a deal.” Petra winked. “I’m expecting grand tales… and I suspect I could give your gear some looking at. What’s it Erend likes to say? Sun Carja’s all well and good, but reinforce it with some Oseram iron and that’s how the magic happens.”

“Erend,” Ikrie asked. “The… Sun-King’s captain?”

“Yup,” Aloy confirmed. “We make it back for the feast, he’ll want to tell you a whole heap of stories about us turning Meridian upside down. Glinthawks, rogue Oseram, explosions…”

“Has it got to the point where that just says ‘Aloy story’ to you yet?” Petra asked Ikrie.

Ikrie blushed, tilting her head a fraction. “Not just yet.”

“Well, looking at the two of you out here,” Petra grinned. “You might be a part of a couple more already. But,” She started walking to the gate, beckoning them to follow. “If you fancy an interlude, we’ll have lunch ready to go as soon as we’re tidied up.”


	8. Thunderjaw

“So the Oseram cook just like they make anything else,” Ikrie observed, around a mouthful of food.

Aloy watched her companion with amusement, as she picked her way through a platter of grilled meat and vegetables. The Oseram didn’t have the Carja’s way with delicate spicing, but their straightforward and bold flavours seemed to agree with Ikrie.

“How so?” Petra asked, plainly amused.

“Using plenty of fire and metal, and making something very robust. Which, to be clear,” she added, “is exactly what I needed after this morning’s exertions.”

“’s one of the best things about the Heap,” Aloy said, around a mouthful of potatoes. “The jobs Petra hands out mean you work up a thorough appetite, and then you come back to this.”

“Oh, so nothing about my sparkling repartee?” Petra joshed.

“I was taking that as a given.” Aloy tapped her chin with two fingers, thinking of where to take the conversation next. “It looks like you’ve got a few more weapons around before. Avad let you have plenty of spoil from the Alight, then?”

Petra nodded, grinning broadly. “A whole swathe of the battlefield went to us. We’d have been happy with less, but the Nora weren’t about to take more than they could carry and we had carts.”

Kaeluf cleared his throat. “We did cart some of it to Daytower for your folk to take back down into the Sacred Land. Seems a few Nora might’ve got themselves a taste for trading.”

“Good,” Aloy smiled. “If it opens up the Sacred Land a little, so much the better.” After all, everything she’d seen only reinforced the need for Tribes to work together. She liked to think that she was setting a good example there.

But the thought of the new Machine nagged at her, despite her prior plans. Ikrie looked at her and saw it. “You’re thinking about the Blazewing, aren’t you?”

Aloy nodded. “The black armour on it worries me. Talanah and I have fought Machines that colour before.” She looked at Petra. “Did you see where it came from?”

“Young Jorgriz did,” she replied. “It came from the southwest. Chased him much of the way.”

“Back towards Rising Light,” Aloy mused.

Ikrie’s eyes lit up with understanding. “The Cauldron Talanah mentioned. But she said it was blocked up?”

“I guess something cleared the way,” Aloy said grimly. She pondered it some more, fiddling with the fork in her hand. “We’ll speak with Talanah about it when we get back to the Lodge. And you know, Petra – if you ever need help, we’ll answer. For now, though, I’ve promised Ikrie a hunt, and the Sun Furrows are calling. Just as soon as we’ve done the dishes anyway, and relieved you of some arrows and such.”

“Was that ‘we’ a slip?” Petra asked her later, when they were cleaning after the plates. Ikrie was off drying them, a safe distance away.

“Hmm?”

That earned her a knowing look and a raised eyebrow. “Aloy, your face is much too honest for that. You’re already blushing.”

Aloy sighed. Petra was right – she could feel the heat in her cheeks. “And so what if it was?”

“Well, I’m not used to you appearing with a companion in tow. Not to mention, the way you look at her…” Petra chuckled. “That little lady’s pretty, and she looks fine in Blazon, but the sparkle in your eyes that says you’re enticed by more than just that.”

“She is pretty, isn’t she?” Aloy murmured. It felt almost transgressive to say it out loud, but Petra nodded encouragingly. “And you’re right, I see something in her.”

“Do you think she realises that?”

It was actually exasperating, the way Aloy’s heart beat more quickly at those words. _What the hell is this about? I’ve fought Thunderjaws and cults, climbed mountains and traversed the ruins of the ancients. But saying what I feel to Ikrie frightens me_.

“Aloy.” The sound of her name cut through her worried reverie.

“Huh?”

Petra gently held out her hand, a surprisingly soft smile on her face. “I get it. You’ve been on your own for a long time. Guess being an Outcast’s ward in the Sacred Land didn’t afford you much flirting practice, huh?”

“You can say that again.”

The other woman clapped her jovially on the shoulder. “Look, you two seem sweet together. And I don’t think you need to worry too much about your odds, the way Ikrie looks at you. Just let her open up to you, as much as you can, and you’ll be alright. And hope your kissing’s up to snuff,” she winked.

Aloy bit her lip nervously. “See how far I get.”

Ikrie remained unaware of this exchange as she and Aloy took their leave of the Heap, found a new mount and galloped into the Sun Furrows. Over ridges and along gullies they went, Ikrie gazing at more of those enticing pools… and the Snapmaws which immediately put her off the thought of taking a dip.

That led her to a vague daydream of Aloy swimming, then breaking the surface, water running off her bare – _no. We’re not going there._

She shook her head with enough vigour that Aloy glanced back at her. “Everything alright?”

“Yeah. Just… nervy.”

For that, she got a comforting pat on the knee. “That’s understandable, Ikrie. But you’ll be fine. This is where I brought down my first Thunderjaw. Everything’s about as controlled as you could hope for.”

They were within sight of the Hunting Grounds now, an encampment sitting proudly atop a rise. From the other side came a faint but steady _thump, thump_. Ikrie had an unpleasant inkling as to just what that would be.

Aloy brought their Strider to a halt. “Up we go.”

Ikrie had heard the allegation, repeated many times and vehemently by her own people, that the Carja had stolen the whole idea of Hunting Grounds from the Banuk. She didn’t really have an opinion, but the Carja groundskeeper was certainly sniffy enough about the girl from the Cut who’d shown up asking for a challenge.

“Ridiculous,” he muttered when he finally mustered the energy to give her a scornful once-over, the Banuk girl in borrowed Carja gear.

“What’s that?” Aloy had been leaning against the wall, but now she propelled herself upright and stood with just the _hint_ of a fighting pose.

“Ah, nothing, good Hawk. Nothing,” the Keeper said, suddenly quite deferential. The words came with some difficulty, though, and Ikrie suspected that he used to treat Aloy rather less courteously.

But she wasn’t here about manners, she was here for a challenge. “So, Keeper, what’s my task?”

“Your task,” he replied tersely arms folded, “is to relieve the Thunderjaw down there of its disc launchers, within the allotted time.”

Ikrie moved over to the ledge, staring down at the enormous Machine below. She felt reasonably proud about not gulping, though she could pretty much feel the colour draining from her cheeks.

“You know I’m going to have to stand back from this, don’t you?” Aloy said quietly, next to her. “I’ll take a hand if it really looks like you’re screwed, but I can’t do more than that.”

“I understand.” Ikrie turned to look at her. “I’ll be the lone snow-ghost on this one.”

“More of a sand-ghost now,” Aloy chuckled. As she spoke, she brought a hand close to Ikrie’s cheek, though then she seemed to realise what she was doing and pull back just a little. “So what’s your plan?”

“I can take a bow and use Tearblast arrows like you’ve shown be. That way I should be done with the Thunderjaw’s big guns quickly,” Ikrie said, indicating the leviathan and feeling reassured when Aloy nodded approvingly. “But then there are those two Ravagers to contend with.” She pointed to the two smaller Machines on the upper level. “So I’ll want to quickly set some tripwires, take my shots, handle the Ravagers and go from there.”

Aloy nodded, an approving look in her eye. “And I’ll step in too,” she said. “Once you’ve completed your challenge, I can come into the arena without breaching the rules. Can’t I?” she says to the Keeper, though it’s not truly a question.

He looks as if he’d still like to tell her no, but good sense wins out. “Just be sure you toe the line,” he said tersely. “Because I’ll be watching the Thrush closely. No special favours, even for the Sunhawk’s protégé.”

“I wouldn’t expect any.” Pivoting to Ikrie, Aloy asked her, “Ready to go?”

Ikrie rolled her shoulders, bouncing lightly on the balls of her feet. “Yeah,” she said breathily – and then again, full voice, to make sure she meant it. “Yeah.”

She was capable of this. Her greatest flair was with a sling, but she was plenty skilled with a bow. She was young and vigorous, honed by a youth spent in Ban-Ur and the Cut.

None of that meant that she wasn’t still nervous. This was the biggest, meanest Machine she had ever crossed paths with, and she was within reach of two Ravagers – a single one of which had nearly done for her just a week ago.

_But then, as now,_ she told herself, _I have Aloy at my back._

She dropped from the zipwire to land in the long grass, rolling and hoping that the thud of her landing had gone unnoticed. She’d never known a landing to be detected, but there was always a first time… _alright, not today._

Sure of her secrecy, she took a second look. It had been one thing to gauge the distance from the prowling Ravagers above, but down on the ground, things were always different. The one to her left was quite a way off, but the one to the right… that was only twenty of so strides away.

Then she looked up, and looked at _it_. Her target. _Oh sacred Blue Light, that’s bigger than I ever thought it could look_. The Thunderjaw’s hunched profile loomed ahead of her now, even though it was stood down in the gully. At least her elevated position kept her from the jaws that gave the monster its name, and would give her some shelter from the cannons on its head. As for the disc launchers… well, that was the object of the game anyway.

_Two minutes for a Blazing Sun. But don’t let that be the only object. Doesn’t matter what Sun it is if I don’t survive to claim it._ She already had her tripcaster in hand, and staked out a shock wire, followed by two blast ones. Then she added some bomb traps for good measure.

Quick as she dared, she darted to the left of the arena and dived into another patch of grass. She was close to the Thunderjaw now, enough that its footfalls shook the earth underneath her. The second Ravager was ahead, and she laid the same set of traps and wires for it too.

_One minute left – I think._ She took her mind off the time. If her aim wasn’t true, the time would be quite irrelevant.

Three tearblast arrows to start with. She wouldn’t get a second chance like this. Might as well hit hard with the first strike. So she pulled back, held the bowstring taut – and let it go.

As she’d been taught, her hand instantly whipped up to grab her next arrow. She had it before the strange noise of the pre-blast could twist the air, and by the time the disc launcher was torn away, she’d nocked and was drawing.

In terms of taking aim, the Thunderjaw swivelling to face her helped. Its red glare, however, boring into her eyes, was truly heart-stopping. _Fight it!_ She snarled, brought her bow up and fired again.

The shot hammered into the disc launcher, but it was already firing. Ikrie rolled to the side, just dodging a searing beam of energy from above. Mercifully, the _bwaaarm_ and boom of the tearblast arrow followed, peeling the heavy gun away.

_Phew. Challenge complete_. Pending her surviving what came next – and earning her trophy. Taking down the Thunderjaw.

The next shot didn’t come from that giant, though. A volley of electric blue split the air to her left – the second Ravager. Well, that was what tearblast arrows were for, right? She heard a snap and fizzing noise, its fellow hitting a shock wire. That kept it away for ten more seconds, so she kept her eyes forward.

Her shot staggered her attacker and relieved it of its cannon, but it sprang straight into a charge, only stopped from pouncing when it hit the trip wires she’d laid in its path. Ikrie dived to the side and then sprinted past it – the Thunderjaw had opened up with its own remaining guns, splitting the air at her back. Further behind their came a crump of explosions, the first Ravager running into the rest of the traps she’d laid. But now that meant two angry Machines behind her, and another below.

Hardpoint arrows from now on. She didn’t have time to get an angle on a Chillwater cannister, so she’d have to strike forcefully and strip away armour with each hit. So the second she had a boulder between her and the Thunderjaw, she did just that, launching the heavy arrows at the nearest Ravager.

Her traps and tripwires had torn away a fair bit of its plating, but it didn’t relent even when she hit its exposed body. She rolled away from its lunge and its rending claws, fired again, rolled again – and then had to abandon that shot when the other Ravager fired its cannon. Beneath the rush of adrenaline, Ikrie felt desperation sinking into her bones.

But then came the telltale sound of someone traversing a zipwire, and to Ikrie’s ears it might as well have been a warhorn. Aloy dropped, rolled and came to her feet, already drawing her bow and an arrow. She drew, fired, and the first Ravager went down before it even knew she was there.

With one less enemy to deal with, Ikrie spun away from the other Ravager and fired once more, laying bare its heart. It threw itself at her, but she skidded away, pulling her spear from its holster – and struck. The blade plunged into its heart with a shower of sparks, and the Machine fell lifeless.

That left only the Thunderjaw, no less infuriated if its next salvo was any indication. Ikrie threw herself back into cover.

Aloy joined her. “Nice going there. Might’ve been under two minutes.”

“Truly?”

“Yup.” Despite everything, the Nora woman was grinning, and Ikrie found herself doing the same. “Now, your trophy’s still kicking, so I think we ought to deal with that before we do anything else. Break left when I say.”

“Left?”

“Yeah.” Aloy held up one finger. “ _Now!_ ”

The Thunderjaw roared behind them as they burst into the open again, both firing as they went. Sacred Blue, the armour that girded this Machine was thick. Their arrows ripped into it and sent pieces spinning away, and the Thunderjaw’s bulk hardly seemed diminished at all.

_Fine_ , Ikrie thought. She aimed for the antenna on its back and caught that with a stinging hit. The Thunderjaw seized up for just a second as the component came away, and Ikrie saw something bright green amid the grey of its armour.

She risked a glance at Aloy. “Is that-”

“Blaze?” Aloy would’ve said more, but she’d seen the cannons flare up again and barked, “Move!”

This time, their cover was the fallen Ravager, but even its armour would only hold for a few moments. After that brief reprieve, they raced to another rock and crouched behind that.

As the salvo raged on, she turned to Ikrie and said, “Yes, that is Blaze. We’ll need to remove more of the Machine’s armour to have any real chance of hitting it, though.”

“We can manage that.” Ikrie nocked three arrows, jumped atop the rock they’d been crouching behind, and fired. Aloy followed suit, ripping more plating from the Thunderjaw’s back. That gave Ikrie her opening and she took it, sending a fire arrow arcing through the air. She saw it catch, and shielded her eyes as the Blaze ignited with a boom and crash of dislodged armour.

Now the Thunderjaw did look wounded, lopsided with the damage it had taken, but it only seemed angrier. It came charging up the slope from the gulley and barrelled towards them, like a mountain of metal. The women hurled themselves out of the way, and Ikrie felt the rush of wind from the Machine’s charge.

But then Ikrie saw it, the row of power cells under the tail. She drew a brace of shock arrows, took aim, and loosed.

It was a truly wondrous thing to see such a vast Machine go still, overcome by the power surging through it. “The head!” Aloy yelled, striking another power cell with an arrow of her own.

Ikrie didn’t need telling twice. She sprinted, casting her bow aside in her need for haste. She drew her spear again, leapt and came down on the Thunderjaw’s metal skull, spearpoint first.

So hard did she land that her knees jarred, and she rolled awkwardly off the fallen Machine’s head to land in the dust. But the Thunderjaw was dead, her spear buried in its head.

The next thing Ikrie’s dazed senses registered was Aloy skidding to a kneeling halt next to her, hugging her. “Thanks, Aloy,” she eventually managed. “Didn’t think I’d have made it without you.”

“Well, it’s like you said,” Aloy replied. “My spear beside yours.” She looked up at the Thunderjaw. “Now, which bit are you taking for your trophy?”

A while later, they clambered back up to the encampment with their loot. The sun was sinking low and it would be best to spend the night here, so this ought to cover dinner quite nicely.

“Blazing Sun,” the Keeper harrumphed. “Not shabby for a first time, I suppose.” He tossed the token to her. “Even with some assistance, Thrush.”

“Couldn’t he have congratulated us on the kill?” Ikrie asked Aloy as they walked away, heading for the tents.

Aloy shot her a look. “Don’t hope for too much. The day I find out how many Machine kills will make that man be courteous…”

“You’ll probably have lost count.”

“Honestly, I already did.”

“Ah well. Least we got the trophy. And I think it’ll be a good story too. Seriously, the way you came out of that roll and straightaway had that Ravager…”


End file.
